


Promise?

by djarinbarnes, wastedandalone



Series: Sebastian Stan [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: 40s bucky, Angst, Broken Promises, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky is going to war, Childbirth, F/M, Fluff, I Made Myself Cry, Loss of Virginity, Love Letters, Memorials, Pre-Captain America: The First Avenger, Smut, World War II, bucky is the sweetest, pre war bucky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-03
Updated: 2020-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:00:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22173694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djarinbarnes/pseuds/djarinbarnes, https://archiveofourown.org/users/wastedandalone/pseuds/wastedandalone
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Series: Sebastian Stan [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553680
Comments: 13
Kudos: 66





	1. Chapter 1

It had been a beautiful spring day in 1941 when you’d laid your eyes upon him for the first time. Your parents had dragged you to a socializing event, some birthday party for some man you didn't know. You had felt pretty much out of place, resting your arms around yourself and the dress you'd spent weeks drawing and sowing. 

And there he was - a beautiful brunette man with eyes as blue as the sky on a beautiful summer evening. His features made you swoon as he winked at you, and a deep blush embedding its way into your cheeks. He'd introduced himself a little while later, James Barnes, but just Bucky. He was glowing as he introduced you to his parents, before getting you something to sip on.

The night went smoothly after that, your arms fell from over your chest as Bucky loosened your mood. He had you by his side the rest of the night, rarely leaving you alone since he sensed your uncomfortableness in the crowd of overly dressed people. 

He bid you farewell with a kiss to your hand and a promise to meet you soon again. And soon it would be. Your father had found him on your doorstep merely a week later, flowers in hand, asking your father for you to accompany him to The Met. 

**_May 1943_**

You had been seeing each other for a year by now. It was finally becoming warm out, the spring turning into summer. You had spent the winter together as much as you could. Your parents had welcomed Bucky into their home and told him he was always welcome, but still, you'd spent the most of your time together in his apartment. 

You could feel he was getting used to you being there, and he always asked if you wanted to stay overnight. Your curfew was set to 10 pm, so you always kindly declined, no matter how badly you wanted to stay. Still, he would walk you home, to make sure you were safe. 

With your one year anniversary coming up, Bucky had asked your father if it was okay if your curfew was pushed to 11pm. Your father had agreed, surprisingly, and here you were, going to dinner reservations with your boyfriend.

Dinner was lovely, and you would catch Bucky admiring you many times throughout the date. You blushed every time, like it was the first time you locked gazes. You had both finished up your main course, now sipping on a small glass of wine, talking about everything and nothing at all.

“Doll,” your eyes found his as he spoke. You smiled, urging him to continue. You watched as his face changed, like he was deep in thought, deciding what words to use. 

“Are you alright, Bucky?” you asked as your hand slid over the table to grasp his. He smiled and nodded, lifting your hand and setting a kiss upon it. The kiss on the back of your hand had become a promise between you, a promise of love. His eyes locked on yours as his breath caught in his throat. 

“I love you, (y/n).” he said and your eyes went wide. You had never heard anyone tell someone they loved them, not even your parents to each other or to you. You felt it in your chest, the warm feeling flowing from your heart throughout your body as you gripped his hand tighter. 

“Look, you don’t have to say it back. I just know that I love you, and I want you to know so too. I feel it in my body just by the thought of you, darling. I wan-“ 

“I love you, Bucky,” you say as you cut him off mid-sentence. His face lit up and he smiled widely, kissing your hand once more. 

As you were walking home, you sensed something off about Bucky. He barely spoke, you just walked silently hand in hand. 

“Bucky, are you alright?” you asked in a low voice as you rounded a corner. He stopped walking abruptly, and sighed. He let go of your hand, wrapping you in his arms in a tight hug. 

In that moment, you knew something was wrong. Maybe not bad, but wrong. He pulled back, resting his hands on your waist, fiddling with the seam of your dress where the top half met the skirt. 

“I got drafted,” he said softly, wanting to lay it down like a feather and not the brick it was. “I go in for my physical tomorrow.” 

You broke his gaze, attempting to collect your thoughts. Of course he got drafted, he was the perfect soldier. It was only a matter of time before he was shipped off to fight in the war. He was proud of his country and wasn’t going to say no to the fight, but he wanted to stay here with you, maybe start a family in a year or two. You simply grabbed his hand, allowing him to continue leading you to his apartment. You needed time to process. 

You silently walked to Bucky’s apartment and he let you both in. You discarded your jacket and shoes, tip toeing across the flooring in his apartment to where his gramophone was seated. You put on your favorite Billie Holiday record and the tunes of _I Must Have That Man_ flowed into the room. You felt his arms slide around your waist from behind, as he softly swung with you. You turned in his arms and laid your arms around his neck, leaning up and planting a kiss on his lips. 

You felt his arms tighten around your waist, and you wanted nothing more but to stay right there, in his arms for all eternity. His hands caressed your back softly, his gentle touch igniting your nerves slowly, but surely.

“Buck, I’m so confused.” you pulled away from him as the song ended, and turned off the gramophone. You turned back to him. He hadn’t moved a muscle.

“I want you. I want to feel you, and to taste you. I want to know what you look like naked. But, I know it’s wrong.” you sighed, walking around him to sit on the edge of his bed.

“I dream about you… Being with you… Making love with one another.” you sucked in a breath, knowing there was nothing but love between you, but still… there was some kind of uncertainty.

“Lord forgive me.” you muttered under your breath as he moved in front of you.

“Bucky, I can’t wait any longer. I’m willing to give you all of me, even though we aren’t committed to each other yet. I want you, so desperately, my heart and body is yearning for you.” your eyes found his in an attempt to read whatever his face showed. You held out your hands for him to take. You knew you had to do this before he left. Knowing there was a possibility he would never come home made you that much more desperate to feel him against you.

Something in his demeanor had changed. His eyes were hooded over by his eyelids and they were darker than usual. He ignored your hands as he hurried into your embrace, throwing his arms around you, capturing you in a deep kiss. You were taken aback by the force of his kiss, but relaxed as soon as you felt his hand clasping your neck. You felt his tongue sliding over your lips and you opened your mouth, letting him in for the first time.

There was something completely different about the kiss, it was full of so much passion and love, like you’ve never felt before. Your tongues slid against one another so passionately it made your toes tingle. You sighed against his lips as he pulled away from you slowly, your eyes closed, afraid of what he were about to say. You felt his hand come up and caress your cheek, and you opened your eyes, his blue ones staring directly into yours.

“You’re so beautiful, doll.” he whispered softly, kissing your swollen lips again. “You need to be clear with me, darling, at any time. I don’t ever want to hurt you,” he kissed you again and you nodded. “If anything is uncomfortable for you, you need to let me know at an instant.” you nodded again as your hands found his dress shirt, unbuttoning the buttons slowly.

“I know you’ll take good care of me, Bucky,” you sighed against his lips as you felt the zipper of your dress sliding down your back slowly. You pulled the tucked ends of his shirt from his pants and pushed it off his shoulders, whimpering at the loss of his hands on your body.

“Relax darling, I’m not going anywhere.” his words stung in your heart as you were reminded of his deployment, but as soon as his hands found the burning skin of your back, you forgot all about it yet again. His hands freed your torso from the dress, baring you to him for the first time. “God, look at you. You’re perfect, my love.” you blushed vividly at his comment, hands coming up to hide your face.

His grabbed them before you could though, kissing both your hands before leaning in and giving you another kiss. You melted into him and just.. gave in. He worked you out of your dress and undergarments, leaving you naked on the bed before him. You fought the urge to cover yourself as he undressed himself, eyes on you like a predator. 

“Let me make you feel good, love,” he said as his hands slid up your legs, sliding under your knees, pulling you to the edge of the bed. He kneeled before you and you gasped, propping yourself up on your elbows to watch him.

“Bucky, what are you doing?” you said uneasily, not sure what he was doing. 

“Don’t worry baby. It’s going to be real nice for you.” he smirked and left a trail of kisses up your inner thigh. His mouth lingered over your mound for a short while, his eyes looking directly into yours as he leaned forward, his tongue softly grazing over your clit, teasing your folds gently. He watched as you writhed above him, your hand fisting the bedsheets and you smiled down at him. 

He pulled away from you and motioned for you to scoot back and lay on the bed. Your head fell into his pillows and you let out a sigh as he crawled in between your legs, sitting himself on his knees.

"What are you thinking about?" he smiled, grabbing ahold of his length. You blushed, but was afraid of not being able to form a coherent sentence, so you just smiled back. He stroked his cock slowly, watching you, watching him. You bit your lip as he slowly leaned forward, the warm tip of his cock coming in contact with your sensitive folds, and you gasped softly. 

"Breathe, darlin'... Relax... Spread your legs a little wider for me." he coaxed as he grazed the tip up and down your slit. The hand that wasn't holding himself steady ran up your stomach, caressing the soft skin leading to your cheek. Your eyes found his in the dim light, and you smiled at him, assuring him that it was alright for him to keep going. 

Bucky's hand trailed back down your stomach, softly grazing over the skin of your hips. He leaned up and kissed you deeply, trailing the kisses down your chest and stomach as he raised himself back onto his knees.

"Give me your hand darling." Your eyes fluttered open and watched as he held his out. You admired him for a short while, the soft brown hair nestled on top of his head, his blue eyes searching your face for any sign of regret. Your eyes traveled down his chest; you'd seen him shirtless before during the summer, but now there was nothing in the way when your eyes traveled further south. The brown patch of pubic hair nestled above his crotch was almost beautiful, and you smiled when your eyes, yet again, rested on his girth. 

You lifted your hand into his. It felt so heavy, lifting your arm the mere 20 centimetres off the bed to lay your hand in his. You closed your eyes and bit your lip as you felt pressure at your entrance. You felt him ease the tip in slowly, and you gasped lightly at the sudden expansion. You tightened your muscles and he felt it immediately.

"Relax your legs for me, love." You exhaled slowly, letting your body relax the best you could and you felt him push himself just a few centimetres further in. Your brows furrowed and you let out a distressed moan, your hand gripping his tightly. 

"You're doing so good my love," he said, "don't move for now. It'll be better soon." You could already feel the pain subsiding, and he leaned down, kissing your lips softly. He brought your intertwined fingers to his mouth and kissed the back of your hand, face turning into a smirk. 

"Now I have to marry you." He smiled, that god awful smile. You giggled and nodded your head.

"Yes." You let out a small laugh but halted as you felt a slight discomfort as Bucky's remained seated halfway inside you. He smiled widely and squeezed his arms under your head, holding you against him as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck. 

"Soon, love. I'm not doing it without a proper ring to slide on your finger." you giggled and kissed his earlobe.

"Hopefully you will also restrain from doing it while inside of me?" He pulled back and looked at you, serious grimace on his face. You were puzzled for a short while before he broke into a grin. You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as he shrugged. 

"Is it alright for you, darlin'? Any discomfort at all?" He searched your eyes as you smiled. 

"It's still a weird feeling, but it's not unpleasant." You smiled as he sunk himself deeper into you. You maintained eye contact as his hips found yours, the wholeness of his girth seated snugly inside of you. You gasped and felt the tears prickling in your eyes as you took in the newfound discomfort, trying to enjoy it.

"Let's just stay here for a day, mmm?" He stroked your cheek and laid his forehead against yours. You breathed out against his lips, the discomfort slowly subsiding yet again. He leaned down to kiss you softly, your lips grazing over each others in the most comforting way. The kiss turned into a heated make out session, and suddenly all you wanted was for Bucky to move. You were dying to feel his length slide in and out of you.

"I think I'm gonna be okay now. You can move" you said as your hand slid up his bicep. He nodded softly and started retracting his hips, and you already felt empty. He pushed himself back into you slowly, filling you up completely yet again. You moaned in both pleasure and pain, and he watched you intensely, careful not to hurt you. 

He restrained himself to an agonizingly slow pace, his brows furrowing as his fist balled up the sheet underneath you. He watched your expression as he moved in and out of you, admiring your slightly parted lips and the soft rosy glow protruding the skin of your cheeks. 

Your eyes slowly opened as your hand slid up his shoulder and down his chest, coming to rest on his ass. You gripped the cheek firmly and he smirked. "Make love to me, Bucky." you moaned as his face scrunched up. His thrusts were languid and powerful, and you bit your lip in pure pleasure as you threw your head back.

"God, love, if you keep that up I'm not gonna last very much longer." He moaned against your cheek, leaving small kisses there and down your neck. You felt a warm feeling flooding your senses suddenly, overcoming you like you’d never felt before. Stars soared before your eyes as you clamped them shut, whimpers leaving your mouth undetained. You felt Bucky’s breath heavily against your neck as he whimpered, your cunt convulsing around him so deliciously tight. He let out a yelp as he stilled on top of you. You felt him sigh contently into your neck and you smiled.

“Let’s get married, Bucky. I don’t want the ring, I just want you. I want to marry you before you ship out. I want to be yours, forever, no matter what happens.” You gazed into his eyes, finding nothing but love. He broke out into a smile before he nodded his head eagerly.

“I thought you said to not propose while inside of you?” He chuckled. You rolled your eyes, smiling widely at him.

“I changed my mind,” you sighed. He kissed you again, this one more slow and easy. This was everything you had dreamed of and more. You knew in that moment that even if you lost Bucky, things would be okay eventually. He’d never let you hurt. What pained you, pained him. You were a team. You and Bucky against the world, and nothing could take him away from you. 

“So, darling, will you marry me?” 

**_November 1943_**

You stood with the letter in your hand, anxious as to what news it brought along. Bucky’s letters stopped abruptly from one month to another, and you got more and more nervous as the weeks passed. You felt the tears slipping out of your eyes, trailing down your cheeks in hot streams. You opened the letter slowly, biting your lip as you pulled out the piece of paper.

“No, no, no…” Your heart fell when you read the first few lines, and you felt your knees scrape heavily against the floorboards when you fell to your knees. You choked on the sobs, tears wetting your dress and the letter in your hands. 

> ON BEHALF OF THE UNITED STATES ARMY, IT IS MY SAD DUTY TO CONFIRM THAT YOUR HUSBAND, SERGEANT JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES, 107TH INFANTRY REGIMENT, IS PRESUMED TO HAVE BEEN KILLED IN ACTION.
> 
> THIS PRESUMPTION WAS MADE UNDER THE PROVISIONS OF THE MISSING PERSONS ACT ON THE 3RD OF OCTOBER 1943. 
> 
> I EXTEND TO YOU MY SINCERE SYMPATHY ON YOUR GREAT LOSS. 
> 
> YOUR HUSBAND DIED SERVING HIS COUNTRY. 
> 
> A LETTER SETTING FORTH THE CIRCUMSTANCES ON WHICH THIS PRESUMPTION WAS MADE WILL FOLLOW.
> 
> IF I CAN BE OF ASSISTANCE TO YOU PLEASE WRITE OR TELEGRAPH THE CHIEF OF UNITED STATES ARMY, WASHINGTON DC 20370. MY PERSONAL REPRESENTATIVE MAY BE REACHED BY TELEPHONE AT (202) OXFORD 42746 DURING WORKING HOURS, OR (202) OXFORD 42768 AFTER WORKING HOURS.  
>    
>  AGAIN ON BEHALF OF THE UNITED STATES ARMY, PLEASE BE ASSURED OF MY SINCERE SYMPATHY IN YOUR TRAGIC LOSS.  
>    
>  CHIEF OF STAFF GEORGE MARSHALL, UNITED STATES ARMY PERSONNEL.

You sobbed heavily for god knows how long, your hand sliding over the heavy swelling of your bump. You felt a nudge against your hand and you choked back another sob, realizing the little angel you were growing would never get to meet the love of your life. 

Bucky was gone. This tiny human was the last thing of Bucky you had, and you were going to protect this baby with your life. Bucky would've loved them. He would've been such a good father, you just knew. Another sob tore through you, rattling your chest. Everything hurt. This had to be a nightmare. Some kind of absolutely horrible nightmare, one that you were going to wake up from any moment now and Bucky would be back home, sitting on his couch, reading the newspaper. You'd be in the kitchen cooking dinner, diamond ring sparkling in the last few rays of light coming through the third floor window. 

You steadied your hands enough to glance at the letter again. It was real. In a couple weeks, his body would be home if they could find it, his dog tags returned to you. There would be a memorial service, he'd be taken to Arlington and buried with the rest of the men who've died. 

It wasn't fair. You had no tears left to cry, so you just sat on the floor, not having the energy to haul yourself up. This wasn't the life you had planned for you and Bucky, not even close. He was supposed to come back. He promised.


	2. I love you so much my dear. and sprout as well. so much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I never intended on writing a second chapter for this story, but here we are.  
> This came to me out of nowhere when I was driving home today, and I just had to write it.  
> It's a little different than what I usually write, but I feel like it's okay-good.  
> Let me know what you think - I love your feedback.  
> Kudos ♡

**_December 1943_**

The memorial and burial of Bucky and his comrades was beautiful. You were allowed to see his casket before the service, and you had cherished every moment. You told him about everything that had happened, how the little one inside your womb had started kicking when you talked about him, and how it would nudge against your hand as you held it while you cried.

You had brought along a small teddy, holding it closely to your belly as the pastor said his words for the fallen soldiers. Tears slid down your cheeks as you watched the ceremony. Some of the widows were motioned to say their goodbyes. You felt your heart sink deeper into the darkness as you were approached by an elderly woman, her smile apologetic.

“It’s time to say goodbye, darling.” she said, and you broke down. Hearing the nickname from her lips plunged deep into your heart, the realization that you would never hear Bucky call you that again clouding your mind. You sobbed in agony, hands squeezing the teddy bear tighter. You weren’t ready to say goodbye. You never would be.

You approached his casket slowly, clutching the teddy, feeling a swift nudge against your ribs. You inhaled deeply, finding some comfort in the life growing inside you. You laid your hand on the white surface, sliding your hand over the soft curve. You leaned down, your lips resting on the cold exterior, channeling all your love into the top. Your forehead came to rest just over where your lips had laid.

“I love you, Bucky. We love you.” you whispered as your tears fell softly on the white exterior. You kissed the surface again, leaving your lips lingering for just a short while. Images of Bucky flooded the back of your eyelids.

Bucky admiring his favorite painting at the Met. Bucky kissing the back of your hand. Bucky tagging you along through Central Park, showing you his favorite spot. Bucky leaning in to kiss you softly, your first. Bucky in the soft glow of the sunset. Bucky on top of you, making love to you. Bucky. Bucky. _Bucky._

You brought the soft plush to your lips and exhaled through your nose, mind clouded with Bucky. You placed the teddy bear on top of the casket, along with another kiss. You pulled away as the tears kept streaming down your face, hands coming up to embrace your growing bump. You winced as a shot rang through the graveyard, followed by another. _In honor of our fallen soldiers_.

“(Y/n) Barnes?” you whipped around when a male voice spoke up behind you. 

“Yes?” you managed to croak out. 

“I’m Sergeant Roone.” he told you, laying a hand on your arm. “I fought alongside your husband. He was a brave man.” he stilled for a moment. You embraced him tightly, tearing up yet again.

“I’m so sorry Sergeant. It must have been awful for you, out there. What you had to see..” You bit back another sob as he held you out at an arm's length.

“My sweet girl, nothing compares to the loss you’re feeling.” he motioned to your stomach and you nodded. You felt his hand on the side of your stomach, and you sighed. “He was always talking about you. I wish you could have seen him when he read your letters. His face always lit up, when the mail came.“ you sobbed as you felt your heart flutter in your chest. “I was lucky enough that I got to travel with the… fallen.. out of there. I don’t know what else would’ve happened if I hadn’t,” you laid your hand over his and mustered a smile at him.

“Sergeant Roone, thank you for your service.” you told him with a grateful squeeze on top of his hand. “Do you know if Bucky got my last letters?” you asked, wanting to know if he died knowing.

“I do not, unfortunately. But that was the reason I approached you. We managed to salvage your letters from the site. And one on your husband when we found him. We figured he was writing when he fell before the enemy.” He pulled out a stack of letters, handing them over to you. You felt your heart halt, and skip a beat.

“Oh my god.” you whispered, feeling a sting in your heart. Here they were. The letters. Your letters. _His last letter?_ You felt the tears well up in your eyes as you embraced Bucky’s comrade in another hug. “You don’t know how much this means to me. Thank you so much Sergeant.”

You came home that evening feeling defeated. You had the letters he had sent you tucked away in a box under your bed. When a day rolled around where you missed him too much, you would read them over and over again. And you read them many times. The loss of the love of your life was unbearing, and you missed him so much your heart stung in your chest.

Today was one of those days. You quietly found the box under your bed, softly caressing your hard bump. It was February soon, and the symbol of your love would soon be born into this world. The nearing of the date was almost painful, and with every day passing, you felt the dreading grow larger. You didn’t want to do this without your Bucky by your side. 

You had moved into Bucky’s apartment shortly before he shipped out, your mother coming to visit you almost every day. You shuffled to your couch, settling down softly against the back of it, wincing at the discomfort. You pulled out the first letter and slid it out of the envelope, already tearing up by looking at the neat handwriting that belonged to your late husband.

> _May 27th 1943_
> 
> _My dearest, darling (y/n)._
> 
> _I know that I left barely a week ago, but I already miss you so dearly._
> 
> _Some of our chaps received their marching orders tonight and tomorrow they’re going to the Dr.s’ to be examined for the front. Some of them expect to leave for England on Saturday._
> 
> _I know you were distraught when I left that morning, and I deeply wish I could’ve stayed with you, held you and loved you forever. I will love you forever though, but for now, I will love you from a distance. That morning I couldn’t make out what was up, whether you didn’t want to say something that someone might’ve heard or if you felt like something was up with me?_
> 
> _I know you wanted to say something but couldn’t bring yourself to it, but please don’t ever keep anything from me, my love. What pains you, pains me._
> 
> _Now my love, I must sleep. It’s a warm night tonight, and all I can think of is the warmth you fill my heart with._
> 
> _Goodnight for now._
> 
> _I love you._
> 
> _Your Bucky._

A sob left your lips as you read over the last two lines again and again. 

_I love you._

_Your Bucky._

_Your Bucky._

_I love you._

_Your Bucky._

You packed away the first letter and found the next one. It slid out of the envelope easily, and you sniffled.

> _June 8th 1943_
> 
> _Dear, lovely (y/n)._
> 
> _What have you been doing today? I suppose you’ve read your favorite book, or listened to your favorite Billie Holiday record. I miss you so much._
> 
> _As you probably have heard, we’re in England now. It’s nice here so far. Almost doesn’t feel like war. One of the chaps has just come in the room feeling a little better than good, if you know what that means, and is trying to get into bed. It is just the sort of thing to make one think and wonder how men came make such fools of themselves … I guess it is up to me to go over and take his clothes off now._
> 
> _It’s strange, how different lives are. How different we want them to turn out. In all likelihood, I imagine a grand day, and I imagine ending up with my little doll and a kiss that I can feel now. Have I not much to be thankful for? Am I not lucky? And should not my life show this good fortune (if I may call it so) in many ways? There are some questions for you to help me in solving. I often ponder over them and can only see one course ahead._
> 
> _But where am I taking you? Away off into philosophy, I suppose you would call it. I’d like to call it Life. The grand, the noble, the fascinating problem of living. Sometimes, you know, I think that I could be happy, yes truly happy, away off far from the bother of human uproar, hidden away in some place of grandeur alone with you._
> 
> _You have pictured it to me and I can see it, but, no darling, that would not be true happiness. I’m sure we would both tire of it in a very short while. It would be gorgeous and lovely for a time, but I think there would be a longing for a something that was not there._
> 
> _I like sometimes to think of a different scene, perhaps something like this: a room filled with books and all the necessities of a library and you, I and our child reading Alice in Wonderland together. We are all tired, for it is after a strenuous day, and oh how we are enjoying it and are happy as happy can be._
> 
> _I know this is longer than what you’re used to, but I’ve just missed you so much lately and all this writing is letting me unravel my thoughts to you. I’ve almost forgotten what you like me to say, what you want me to say and what I want to say myself._
> 
> _One thing I do remember though, is that I love you._
> 
> _Your Bucky._

You smiled at the thought of the two of you reading Alice in Wonderland again. You had read it aloud to him during the winter, and he had stared lovingly at your lips with every word that fell from them. You put the letter back into the envelope and pulled out the next one. You took a deep breath and wiped your cheeks. 

> _July 1st 1943_
> 
> _My dear, sweet (y/n)._
> 
> _First and most important, I suppose that you have heard the news. This time I think that it is sure and that we will be on the frontline some time this side of Sunday. That is about all I can think of at present. It does not seem possible, after so many disappointments that we are really going. The boys seem to be going crazy; by tomorrow there will be no holding them. There is to be a parade of every man in the battery then and the news will come to us officially._
> 
> _My, it’s so long since I have seen you and so long since I promised to write you and again so long since talking with you that it is hard to find much to write about. Writing is at its heart but a very poor apology for speech and when I think that it will be but a short time till I can tell you all the news._
> 
> _Your Bucky._

You sniffled yet again, wiping your nose on your handkerchief. You picked up the next letter.

> _July 7th 1943_
> 
> _My darling (y/n)._
> 
> _We’re at the frontlines by now. I wish I could muster writing you more letters, but it always seems like there is never the time. I promise you, I will write to you soon._
> 
> _I love you so much, my dear._
> 
> _Your Bucky._

You sighed before putting it back into the envelope. You found the small package of letters, setting it on the table in front of you. You undid the string holding the letters together, removing the dog tags bound along with them. You looked through them, grasping the two last ones. You looked at your handwriting on the front of the last envelope, then turning it over slowly. It had been opened. _He died knowing._ You felt the tears well up in your eyes, putting the envelope down. 

For the first time, you looked at Bucky’s last letter. You felt the acid burning your throat as you took in the dried red splatters on the folded piece of paper, and you slammed it down on the table before running to the kitchenette and emptying the contents of your stomach into your trash bin. You felt your cheeks wet with tears again, crying silently while hunched over in an uncomfortable position. 

You rose and washed your hands, dreading the walk back to the table where you knew the blood-splattered letter was resting. You wiped the tears off your cheeks before softly padding over the floor, picking the letter up and unfolding it. Another sob tore through you, just seeing his handwriting. 

> _August 16th 1943_
> 
> _My dearest, sweetest (y/n)_
> 
> _My dearest little treasure. I just could not help crying as I read what you had written and the tears rolled down my cheeks as I thanked God for having given me such a little treasure as you are. Two treasures, now._
> 
> _Dearest, if I should lose you I dare not think what I should do! I love you so much and want you with all my heart and soul just for myself (and sprout, of course). I could be happy anywhere with you. Now more than ever. The seed inside of you is growing, and you are carrying our love inside of you._
> 
> _My dearest (y/n), how much you have helped me so far. I used to think that perhaps it was not the right thing for me to “fall in love” when there was so much ahead of me. But as time went on, and I knew you better, those feelings gradually left me. You grew more and more into the woman I had imagined, more and more I watched your faith and admired your goodness for I can find no other word to express it; you had emerged in a simplicity and a purity, which was hard for me to realize._
> 
> _Why all this? Well it was no temptation to you to have me holding you in my arms; you were innocent, you cured me with a pure and unsullied love. To have me with you was satisfying in itself. I never in my life have as tempted as with you. I think it was because I loved you from the start. I can still feel that there is more in love than many think._
> 
> _It has taken me some time to pen all this; I could not talk to you in the same way. I would simply stumble over the words and not manage to say anything at all._
> 
> _Now dearest, I think I will have to leave this for a while. Oh! I do pray that we will both be proud to be united again in health and strength and to work along our journey together. I cannot wait until you are in my arms again, along with our love brought into the world by you._
> 
> _I love you so much my dear. And sprout as well. So much._
> 
> _Your Bucky._

You clutched the letter tightly against your chest, crying until your throat couldn’t muster any more sounds. Your eyes itched terribly from the constant wetness, and as you looked up, you realized it was night. You had no recollection of how long you had been seated with the letter, simply crying.

As you laid back in bed that night, you pulled your legs up underneath you as you cradled your bump. You glanced over to the folded up American flag on your dresser, silver dog tags gleaming in the moonlight streaming through the window.

“Daddy loves you, sprout.” you whispered as you stroked the soft skin of your belly. “He loves you so much.” your body gave in to the exhaustion, falling into a sleepless slumber.

**_February 1944_**

January had been the slowest of the slowest. Every move you made was a painful waddle, every thought you thought was Bucky. He was everywhere. You sighed as you tried getting comfortable in the nest of pillows you had built, one between your legs and another under your head. The baby had limited it’s movements as January came to an end, and you were starting to get worried. You groaned in pain as you felt another contraction, the discomfort subsiding too slowly for your liking.

“Mom,” you managed to whimper, and she hurried to where you laid, stroking your forehead slowly. 

“Shh, honey, it’s alright.” she managed to get your focus on her as your ragged breath strained your throat. “Breathe with me,” she guided your breathing to a steady, regular breathing as she held your hand. “That’s it, baby girl, good job.” 

You smiled at her weakly, eyebrows furrowing together in a tight knot. You let out a muffled, pained groan as another contraction washed through you, and you felt the pressure moving downwards. 

“Mom, it’s happening. Is the midwife going to be here soon?” you looked at her, eyes full of fear as you gripped her hand tightly. She nodded and wiped your forehead with a damp cloth. 

“Relax honey, she’ll make it. There’s nothing to be scared of. I’m right here.” your mother assured you as you heard a faint knock on the door before it opened, revealing your midwife and a doctor. You relaxed against the bed as her presence calmed you down. _Oh thank god._

“Mrs. Barnes, how are you feeling? Are the contractions bearable?” she asked as she laid out a few layers of cloth on the bed before helping you move around into her desired position. You barely nodded before she lifted your loose nightgown and checked in between your legs.

“You’re having a baby soon, Mrs. Barnes. I can see the head already!” she smiled as she took your hand, stroking it softly. You smiled at her weakly, the doctor moving in between your legs to help you give birth. “When you feel the urge, you need to push, Mrs. Barnes!” the midwife told you as you tightened your hand around hers and your mothers, pushing as if your life depended on it. You focused on where the silver dog tags swung from. Where you were gripping your mother’s hand. He was there. You felt it.

You suddenly felt empty. A searing cry tore through the small apartment, letting you know you succeeded. 

“Congratulations Mrs. Barnes. It’s a boy!”


	3. we love you so much. all three of us.

**_Late September 1943_ **

_“Sergeant, something is happening!” Blue lights lit up the dark sky above them and a searing sound tore through their ears. “What the hell was that?!” He heard from beside him, all his men keeping their heads low, fear evident in their eyes._

_He leaned over to the fastest runner in his infantry. “Michaels, I need you to get this to my wife, please,” he held out a letter and his silver tags. “Please. She’s pregnant. I don’t know what’s going to happen to me. Please make sure she gets it.” he was begging the frightened male intensely, watching the realization overcoming his younger soldier. The young man nodded and grasped the objects, fear still clouding his eyes._

_“We’re surrendering, Michaels. While we surrender, you need to hide, run, anything to get you away from here. You need to get that letter to New York. I’m begging you.“ Michaels had never seen his sergeant so fearful. It was a whole different man in front of him, but Michaels nodded his head and moved stealthily through the long trench, away from the evident gunfire and blue streaks lighting up the sky._

_Michaels hung the dog tags around his neck, tucking the letter into his front pocket before poking his head up, looking around for any sign of the enemy. When he saw no sign of them, he bolted for the woods, just as hands from the men of the infantry rose from the trenches._

_He ran until his legs gave out under him. He had no take on how far he had ran, but when his back hit the bark of a tree, he exhaled for the first time in a long while. He closed his eyes and relaxed against the cold ground, hot autumn air making his clothes cling to his sweating body. He laid his head back for just a little while._

_He startled awake when gunshots drew closer. How long had he been out? His body jumped with every shot, fear creeping back up into his eyes. He had to move. He had to run. He had to make it back to New York. He had to get the letter home. Just as he rose from the tree, a bullet flew by, right by his ear. He gasped and shut his eyes tightly, praying to god he would make it out of there._

_He ran. He zig zagged between the trees, doing his best to dodge the bullets. He listened as the bullets hit the trees around him, saw the splinters flying while tears streamed down his face. He stopped dead in his tracks, looking down at his abdomen, watching the red patch grow bigger. He cried silently as he fell to his knees, clutching his stomach tightly before laying back against a tree, lightheadedly closing his eyes. He prayed the Lord’s Prayer one last time before it blacked completely._

**_October 3rd, 1943_ **

_“There’s a few more over here!” the Lieutenant yelled out, motioning a corporal with a piece of paper to join him. The lieutenant squatted down, grabbing the dog tags from around the man’s neck. “Madsen, Phillip. Massachusetts.” he sighed. “107th. Deceased.” he motioned for another corporal to search the body. He found nothing on him._

_The lieutenant looked around as the corporals checked the tags and searched the bodies. He looked down, seeing the scattering of confused footsteps littered on the ground. He tried to make out the patterns of them. Where the soldiers were running to. One led into the woods._

_“Corporal Sanders, follow me, please,” he said as he motioned for the woods. The man nodded and grabbed a paper, following his commander into the dead forest. They followed the footprints in the soft ground, zig zagging their way in between the trees. “Someone tried to escape,” he said as he admired the bullet holes in the trees._

_“There’s one over here!” his corporal yelled and the lieutenant hurriedly made his way to where the corporal was crouched down, looking at the dog tags. “Barnes, James Buchanan. New York.” he looked up at the lieutenant. “107th. Deceased.”_

_“Search him.” the lieutenant motioned with his hand, before taking off his hat to wipe his forehead. He watched as the corporal checked his pants, finding nothing but a rock with a hole through it. The corporals’ search continued to his front pockets, eyes widening as he pulled out a letter, stained with dried blood._

_“We got a live one!” someone shouted in the distance. A live one, after a week? Impressive. The corporal carefully pushed the letter into his pocket, and the two men helped each other bring the body back to the others. “Roone, Dean. Maine.” the corporal read on the silver plates. “107th. Alive!” he sighed happily and watched as the man’s eyes moved beneath his eyelids. “You’re alright soldier. You’re going home.”_

**_March 1944_ **

_The light was blinding when he stepped out of the bunk chambers at the weapon factory. The early spring sun was glowing brightly in the sky, and all he wished for was for the sun to burn him right where he stood. The endless fabrication of weapons was making him lose his shit. All he wanted was to go home._

_He had no idea where he was. He knew they had been in Italy when they had surrendered. The months passed since then laid as a thick fog over his mind. They moved the captured remains of the infantry around for what felt like weeks. Maybe it was a couple of weeks. Maybe it was just a few days._

_The black hood over their heads didn’t give much away. The sedatives they had been given while they traveled hadn’t been on the weak side. He felt groggy for a long time after arriving at the factory._

_Their routine was something to gag over. Sleeping in tightly cramped bunks, eating watery soup. If they were lucky, there would be a few cubes of potato in the tasteless food. They would work for hours on end. Marching tiredly back to the bunks to get what awful sleep they were allowed to. Then repeat. And repeat. And repeat._

_At least the summer was approaching slowly. He felt the nights grow warmer, and the sun setting later and later. He kept thinking of home. His wife. His child. Was the child born by now? How long had it been? Was it a boy? Or a girl?_

_A little baby Barnes. He closed his eyes and he could almost hear the soft thudding of a toddler padding across the floorboards. He was sure you were taking care of his child no matter what. He could faintly remember your last letter._

> _July 28th 1943_
> 
> _Sweetheart, I’m longing for you to come home to Brooklyn, but I’m a little bit afraid to see you again now. I’m getting awfully big on top but I still don’t stick out very much down below. I just look heavier all around now, but by the time you get here I guess it will be much worse._
> 
> _That’s right my love, you’re going to be a father._
> 
> _I’m not at all worried though - I just feel happy and proud to be carrying the baby of the person I love most in the world. I really feel as if I have a part of you with me all the time._
> 
> _I love you so much, and miss you likewise._
> 
> _Your (y/n)._

_He felt the tears roll silently down his cheeks as he stood there, motionless. He felt a sharp pain in his shoulder and a push forward. “Auf!” he heard one of the commanders order. He trodded into the factory, getting ready for another day of manufacturing weapons for the enemy. One of his fellow soldiers joined him shortly after, vividly aware of the guards._

_“We need to tell you that escape plan Barnes. You need to get home to your family.” he looked over his shoulder, still keeping an eye on the guards. “You know I don’t have any family left.” Bucky looked up at the man beside him, tears protruding in the corners of his eyes._

_“Please don’t give me hope, Mason. I can’t take another let down. I just miss her so much. And my child…” he choked back a sob as the guard approached them. He eyed them carefully as they worked beside each other, now saying another word before he had left._

_“This will work out. I promise you. I’ve laid out a plan with some of the others. We’ll get you out of here. No matter how much they want it as well.. You’re our sergeant. If anyone can get us out, it’s you.” Mason left him shortly after, nodding to some of the other soldiers. Prisoners. Working for the enemy._

_As nightfall rolled around, they were all commanded back to their bunks. Bucky knew Mason and Ronson would inform him of the details of the escape when the guards had left for their nightly drinks. They approached his bunk shortly after the guards had left, and they agreed that tonight was the night. Hours passed, and they gathered up enough men in the different buck columns and, to their luck, they weren’t too far away from the barbed wire fence._

_Ronson snuck up to the commander room where the guards had gathered, retrieving a bottle of liquor from the open window quietly. He was one of the few prisoners who were allowed to smoke, and furthermore was allowed to carry matches around. Gullible guards. Ronson had ripped a piece of cloth from one of Bucky’s pant legs, and was now on his way to throw a burning cocktail at the washroom, where the women did the clothing._

_Everything was set and ready. Mason and Bucky had pulled up the wire and covered the barbs, so he didn’t get cut. There was a 40 yard run to the next fence, and Bucky would have to manage that on his own, therefore, the distraction._

_Mason kept an eye on the washroom, and slowly but surely, orange flames licked their way up the inside of the walls. He grabbed Bucky by the neck and laid his forehead against Bucky’s. “Good luck, my friend. I wish you all the best.” He said as Bucky grabbed his arms, squeezing slightly, before crawling under the fence. Mason made sure to rearrange the fence so it wasn’t apparent where he had escaped._

_Bucky ran the 40 yards quicker than ever, despite being stripped of any protein for god knows how long. Freedom was within his grasp. He glanced back and watched as Mason ran back to the bunks, light on his feet. Bucky turned, and took in the fence. Simple, yet sturdy. He heard the soft clicks, and it surprised him. It was electric._ **_Fuck_** _._

_All of a sudden it glimmered before him, and then it shut off. He looked back at the camp and realized the maintenance shed had caught fire. Every light in the camp was out. He thanked his lord as he signed the cross over his chest. He quickly warped the soft wire and slid out through a hole big enough for his skinny body, trying his best not to make any noise or pull too hard._

_And then he ran. He ran for what seemed like an eternity. Night turned to day, and day turned to night. He ran over the hard, rocky roads and soft grass fields. He ran with tears streaming down his hollow cheeks, he ran towards you. He ran home._

_That’s what he imagined, the least. He stumbled upon a fairly large city after god knows how long. It was a devastating sight. He walked into a bombed apartment complex and searched one of the ruins, just for something other than his prisoners clothing. He found something that must have belonged to a teenager, and yet, it still hung from his boney body. He found a pair of shoes as well. Shoes. It had been so long since he had worn a pair of shoes._

_He scavenged the kitchen, finding the most delicious can of beans he had ever laid his eyes upon. God treated him that day. Now all he needed was to find the army. The American army. That was probably the most difficult task of all. That, and getting home. He didn’t know how long he hid in the ruins of the old apartment complex. But one day, he heard what sounded like music to his ears. Voices. Speaking english._

**_May 1944_ **

It was your anniversary today. Two years ago, you had said yes when Bucky had asked you to be his. Never in your wildest dreams had you imagined that this is how you would end up. You felt your heart flutter softly in your chest as you recalled the day in your mind. You smiled as you walked from the small kitchenette in yours and Bucky’s apartment, to where your three month old was sleeping soundly in his crib. You watched him adoringly, slowly sipping the water.

A knock fell on your door, and you straightened your dress before walking over, opening your front door. You were shocked to find a man of his status outside your door, but you let him in when he motioned with his arm. 

“Mr. Marshall?” you asked when you had regained your composure. You were shocked as he stood there in your living room, for a moment not believing it was actually him. 

“Mrs. Barnes. I’m sorry to come barging. I bear some news that had shocked all of the United States Army. I wanted to personally deliver the message to you, before we make it official. You might want to sit,” he motioned to your couch and you nodded, not fully understanding why he was in your apartment. “I see you have a child. My congratulations.” he offered, and you gave him a warm smile in return.

“Thank you, Mr. Marshall. It’s my late husband and I’s. He looks just like his father.” you glanced toward your bed with a smile, to where the crib was standing. You sighed, longingly. “So, you have some news for me?” you asked, just wanting to know what was so important, that the Chief of Staff was doing in your home. He sat down next to you and took your hand, startling you.

“There’s no easy way to say this, Mrs. Barnes.” you looked at him, shocked to your core. What could be harder to say than your husband was killed by the enemy?

“Back in October ‘43 they collected the bodies of the fallen soldiers in Azzano. What appeared to be your deceased husband, among them.” he took a breath as you held yours. “They stumbled upon a soldier last month in Steindorf, Austria.” you barely remembered you were supposed to be breathing. “He claims to be your husband, Mrs. Barnes.” you felt the tears well up in your eyes as you thought over the things Mr. Marshall had told you.

“We’re uncertain of his identity at this moment, but he has given us a lot of information about a weapon facility in Kreischberg, which we’re currently looking into.” Mr. Marshall took your other hand and faced you. “Mrs. Barnes… This might not be easy for you, but would you be so kind as to come with me to Washington, to identify this man? I know it’s, of course, a lot to ask.” you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Mr. Marshall… This is really big news. I can’t begin to fathom…” you broke into a sob when you didn’t know what else to do. 

“He also told us about the day they were captured. He explained he had given his tags and a letter to one of his soldiers, ordering him to get it safely to New York for him. That must have been the man we identified as your husband back then.” you choked on another sob. There was so much information to process for you. Burying the wrong man. But who? Bucky being alive? You didn’t know what startled you most of the new information.

“When is he coming to the States?” you asked the man beside you. You watched his steady breathing, wondering how he stayed so calm.

“He’s already here, Mrs. Barnes. They’ve been monitoring him for the last two weeks in a facility down in Washington. He was severely underweight when the soldiers found him in Austria, but he managed to stay alive.” Mr. Marshall offered you a small smile. “If you’re willing, could you join me today?” he asked, taking you aback yet again. You nodded slightly. All you wanted was your Bucky back.

“Let me just pack our things and we’ll join you on your way, Mr. Marshall.” you said with a small, careful smile before rising from the couch to pack some clothes for you and junior. As soon as you had clasped up one of Bucky’s bags containing your and juniors garments, you followed Mr. Marshall, locking up your apartment before getting in the back of his vehicle, softly rocking the baby in your arms. His suit-clad men helped putting your bag in the back, and Mr. Marshall joined you shortly after.

The ride was silent. Junior slept soundly in your arms, and you made no effort in trying to small talk with Mr. Marshall. This was such a weird situation, and you hadn’t had any time to process any of it. When you got closer to the facility, Mr. Marshall started talking to you about what to expect. You needed to be aware of things that could happen. 

“He reacted very poorly to the staff at the facility. He told one of the men, Roone, that they had tortured him back in Austria, and that he was afraid. You need to be careful, Mrs. Barnes. And we may have to keep him for a little while to see how he responds to you. It would be best if you didn’t bring the baby for your first meeting. Maybe that could trigger something within him. Just go slow, and we’ll try and guide you through everything.” you nodded, and sighed with relief. 

“Right this way Mrs.” a nurse told you, as you entered the facility the next morning. You had the baby on your arm, not sure how to handle being away from him. The nurse smiled at you when you reached a set of doors, pushing and holding them open for you. 

“I’ve called for a midwife to look after your child while you visit the soldier. I’m not certain of how much time you have with him today.” you nodded and found yourself standing outside a door. There wasn’t any name on it, and you figured they still weren’t sure of his identity. The midwife came and you kissed juniors forehead before handing him over silently. 

The nurse led you into the room, and there he was. Your husband. Bucky was sitting on the edge of the bed, head down, looking at his feet. When he heard footsteps approaching, his head shot up. Tears welled up in your eyes as you took him in for the first time in a year - his tangled hair a mess upon his head, his thin arms and legs. The playful glint in his eyes was long gone, and any small spark of hope reignited when his eyes landed on you.

“(y/n)?” he whispered, and you hurried to him as he rose from the bed. You wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, the feeling of his malnourished body relaxing in your embrace leaving you in a fit of sobs. You felt your shoulder grow wet as he buried his head there, his arms coming around your waist tightly, never wanting to let you go again. You cried in each others arms until Bucky’s legs gave out. He needed to sit for a while. You held his hand and looked at him, taking him in yet again. 

His eyes were sunk in, his cheekbones too prominent and his lips were cracked and dry. Your hand came up to slowly caress his face. “Is this okay?” you asked before touching him, and he nodded slowly. You grazed his cheek as you felt the love you had bottled up for so many months finally spill over. “Oh Bucky!” you exclaimed as tears fell down your cheeks. His eyes found yours and he took your hand from his cheek.

“I’m s-so sorry, my d-darling.” he managed to stutter. He didn’t trust his voice yet. You choked on another sob as your arms once again fell around his neck, clinging on to him as if your life depended on it. He was finally here. He was finally _home_.

**_February 1945_ **

“ _Happy Birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Mason! Happy Birthday to you!_ ” you and Bucky sung to your now one-year-old baby boy, blowing the candle out.

You had a hard time comprehending all that happened the last year. The birth of your son. Bucky being found alive. Months of rehabilitation. Bucky coming home. Bucky recovering. You and Bucky officially tying the knot in front of your families, and the naming of your son. And finally, the liberation of what remained of the 107th Infantry Regiment. It had been a lot harder for Bucky than it had for you. 

Bucky had to learn to eat again. He had to learn how to walk again, and talk again. He had to learn how to let people in again. He had to learn how to trust people again. He had to learn how to love again. And how to be intimate again. It was amazing when it finally happened, but still, there was so much holding him back. It was hard for you to watch him go through all this pain, but seeing him healthy and so happy on his son’s first birthday was worth it.

“I love you so much, sprout.” he cooed into the toddlers ear. He kissed Mason’s cheek gently, ruffling his hair as the kiss turned into a raspberry kiss. You admired them appreciatively, Bucky’s love for his family overcoming you yet again, the tears slipping out of your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. “And I love you. I don’t know what I would do without you, my love.” he said as he pulled you into his arms and kissed you deeply. 

“I love you, Bucky. We love you.” you said as you gave him another kiss, your thumb coming up to graze his cheek. He laid his forehead against yours, sighing as he grasped your hand. 

“Thank you baby. For always being there. For helping me through the hardest of times… For staying with me. For never leaving me.” his eyes filled with tears as he choked the last part out, holding your body tightly against his. He stroked your sides lovingly, while you met his lips in another kiss. 

“We will never leave you Bucky. I promised you that. We promised each other.” you said as you broke away from him. “We love you so much. All three of us.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apparently wasn't finished with this yet.  
> I hope you enjoyed.  
> Remember to leave your feedback <3

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, we're back with another one shot!  
> We hope you enjoyed reading it as much as we enjoyed writing it.  
> Feedback is, as always, greatly appreciated ;)


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